welcome.
Meow.
Meow. |
"Why don't you learn to play a real instument?" 'How does one define a real instrument exactly?' "One that you could play in band." 'Oh.' "It doesn't look like it'd be too hard for you to pick up after all. We'll try some stuff out when you're around here" After school: 'Dad, Mr. Sterling thinks I should join band.' "When were you planning on doing that?" 'I don't know, within the next couple years maybe' "I'm sorry, I just don't understand why you'd throw away chamber choir for that." Thanks dad. I don't understand. Half the time I don't even want this stuff to happen, it just does. Must you neglect what I can't change? Again, a prayer for passion leads me way off kilter. Do I understand it yet? Nope. Will I ever? Probably...but there's a great chance it won't be for a while. Sigh. It just sounds so fake. Like an easy way out. I saw you again today. And I'm afraid it got me thinking. It got me questioning things. It got me being kind of curious. Could I bring it up? Sure. Should I? Well, I don't want to. End result? I never will. Not until you bring it up first. I love how you're so freakin' mature. It's almost comical how much sense you make. The reasons you have for the actions you take are thought out. It's...I don't know, something I wish I could do more of. I need to finish your mixtape. Like now. |
